


Legacy

by Othalla



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: (Only not really), (probably), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Gen, That's Not How The Force Works, Young Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9217229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Othalla/pseuds/Othalla
Summary: He leaves a message on a channel he never thought he’d use, saying: “I’m here. I’m alive. Please answer.”The force is silent – has been silent – and Obi-Wan makes the decision of where to go not with his head but with his gut, following a memory of a dream he doesn’t wish to remember.





	

**Author's Note:**

> These are preliminary tags bc i dunno where're we're gonna end up to be totally honest. Just, probably no focus on romance.

Qui-Gon does not answer when Obi-Wan tries to contact him. It hurts, but at this point, it’s also expected. Obi-Wan gives himself a moment to grieve and then he moves on and tries to reach someone else. But Bant does not answer, either, and Garen’s number is a dead end, and all the numbers he has to the temple leads to nothing but static and a loud, beeping noise. A man breathing in the darkness.

He leaves a message on a channel he never thought he’d use, saying: “I’m here. I’m alive. Please answer.”

The force is silent – has been silent – and Obi-Wan makes the decision of where to go not with his head but with his gut, following a memory of a dream he doesn’t wish to remember.

-

Naboo is rich. Their buildings reach for the skies, shining chrome and glass. The people wear fine clothing, bright colours and sought after metals and stones that costs more than most people can make in a lifetime. Their fields are green and their lakes are full and their cattle are fat, there is no starvation on this planet. No such thing as slavery.

Obi-Wan stays out of sight and out of mind. He’s seen the look in these people’s eyes before, too many times to be fooled by the opulent state of their surroundings. He remembers the military outposts. The stark monochromes of their ships and troops and how everything else on Naboo stands to contrast.

There is rebellion, here, and wearing it’s in fashion.

It takes little effort to sneak into the hangar; the power cells are old, yes, but they’re definitely not broken. It’s empty and filled with nothing but dust and cracked fuel cables, merely a faltering echo of what it used to be, the vision that grows stronger with each step he takes. Of a boy, older than his bones should allow him to be, who helps even when he shouldn’t. Of a girl, or no, of several girls, who carry a nation on their shoulders and blasters across their backs. Of his Master, who takes one turn wrong and does not come back.

Obi-Wan continues on. Placing his feet where someone bigger did before. Living the dream.

He goes into the generator complex. Looks down over the edge of the walkway and imagines the fall. How you would hit the walkway below first, maybe breaking your back, before you plunged down into the darkness that is the Naboo equivalent of a core. He stares at the shields that turn on and off and on and off, and does not cross them. He stands and he stares and he remembers, the band on his wrist a noose around his neck. A shackle instead of the comfort he had intended it to be.

He does not need to go inside to know. He had known the moment it had happened. This is just icing. A bottle of water to a drowning man.

The Queen lays a hand on his shoulder and does not speak, her guard equally silent spectators at their backs. They stay there, unmoving -  a cold and stale comfort but still a comfort nonetheless – until Obi-Wan has gathered enough pieces of himself to exist.

“How many years?” Obi-Wan asks. His voice cracks like old plastic, harsh and unforgiving. The edges never again lining up.

The Queen considers her words for a long time and Obi-Wan’s heart gets heavier with each beat.

“Too many, I’d wager.” The Queen squeezes his shoulder. “And too cruel for this place. Come, Jedi, and we shall talk.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes linger for just a moment before he follows the Queen, over the walkways and passed the hangar, climbing up to a room with a view of the vast forest that stretches out in the distance. They’re on the opposite side of the castle from the military base nearest Theed. Here, it is possible to imagine that it does not exist. Obi-Wan wonders if that might not have been the whole idea.

They settle down around a table of spun glass, the Queen on an arm chair and Obi-Wan on the softest couch he’s sat on in a long time. The fabric paints a lovely picture of flowers and water in motion, flowing with the wind and each movement of his hand. He places his hands in his lap, clenching his fingers so they whiten.

Collects himself. Asks again. “How many years?”

“Since the Battle of Naboo? Just over three decades.”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes and tries to breathe. To reconcile the idea of himself with the world at hand. But the Queen is not done.

“Since the Jedi lived?” she says and Obi-Wan’s eyes shoots open again, unable to hide the shock as he remembers. He hadn’t wanted to believe at the time, had pressed the dreams and the yawning hole left behind out of his mind, and so he had forgotten that this was a thing he knew, too. Like he knew his Master was long gone and he was Padawan to no one. “We’re coming up on twenty.”

He had forgotten that he wasn’t so much lonely as he was alone.

“You’re a living myth, Jedi. And one, I must confess, I do not know how to deal with.”

Obi-Wan gathers his head in his hands and laughs. A tremulous thing. The very essence of what a Jedi should not feel, should not be, all there for everyone to hear in his voice.

“I find myself in a similar position,” he says, and the Queen’s responding smile is gentle. It softens the hard look her face paint gives her and he realizes that they’re roughly the same age. It’s surprising, because he feels ancient and like a newborn all at once. A teenaged boy who stepped out of time at one point and came back at another.

“My name is Obi-Wan,” he says. He does not want to be a myth. “Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

He needs to be a person.

“Hello, Obi-Wan. My name is Sosha Soruna, Queen of Naboo. It is very nice to meet you.”

Obi-Wan smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> SO ANYWAY, padawan obi-wan crashlanded on a planet just a tad too close to a black hole (there comes the kinda time-travel) and returns to the galaxy around 2BBY. As far as he knows he's the only remaining Jedi. Given this is obi-wan we're talking about there will be angst and he'll think the world is on his shoulders and honestly i just know roughly where things are going but we all know obi-wan'll be angsty getting there.
> 
> Come talk to me on my [tumblr](http://tockae.tumblr.com) of all the things star wars.


End file.
